The Slave's Roommate

Jack was half shaft deep in Sara's ass when he paused to admire his handiwork. Sara was standing, bent over her bed with her head mashed into a pile of pillows. Her jeans and panties were bunched around her ankles, leaving her standing in a precarious toddle. They were both breathing heavily, and there were several red hand prints across the tan flesh of Sara's ass.

"Who owns this ass?" Jack demanded, spanking it again for emphasis.

She clenched her cheeks around his cock. It felt amazing. "You are! Oh god, you are - you own my ass, Master!" Sara yelled back, her voice not the slightest bit muffled by the bed.

Jack felt elated, it was so fucking hot when she called him that. He resumed his steady pumping, sliding his cock in and out of her greased puckered hole. "That's right I do," he said, huskily. "And I can fuck it any time I please. You're just my little whore – my little anal whore."

"Oh!" Sara gasped shrilly as Jack slammed into her with particular force, his balls slapping wetly against her juicy gash. "Say it!" he demanded, grabbing the skin of the back of her leg and pinching it.

"OwwwwAhhhh" Sara yelled, "I'm your anal whore!"

Jack pushed his way fully inside her, paused, and pinched her again, even harder. "No, say the whole thing," he commanded.

"I'm your little anal whoooooooore!" Sara yelled, forcing her hips back against his, trying to drive him even further inside her. Jack smiled, licked his fingertips and bent over her. His fingers sought her right nipple, and when he found it he pinched down, twisting. "Ahhhhhh!" Sara yelled again, starting to come.

——

Just feet away through the thin, cheap wall Nichole sat on her toilet masturbating. Though no one could see her she for some reason found this particularly humiliating, to be so moved by her roommate's lovemaking as to be moved to self-abuse. But the things she said! "I'm your little anal whore?" Nichole couldn't hear whatever had prompted that, but how humiliating it must have been to say the words! And what were they doing? She could hear the bed crashing against the wall which was a dead giveaway that they were fucking, but did that really mean... was he fucking her ass? Was Sara the kind of girl who would even allow that to happen? The thought of her proper, studious roommate doing something so... filthy sent a wave of pleasure shooting through Nichole, and she heard herself give off a little yelp of a moan. Nichole couldn't bear the thought that someone might hear her, so she brought her shirt up to her mouth and stuffed the end in, biting down hard. She worked harder on her pussy. Did Jack have a tiny penis which made it somehow bearable? Or was Sara being split in two by a monster cock? The later image sprung to mind, Jack with a giant, inhuman dick driving it mercilessly into Sara's – exposed? Proffered? – ass. Nichole's heart beat in her ears, but she could hear them again, Jack this time. "That's right, bitch, take my cock." It excited Nichole even more to hear her friend's boyfriend talk to her that way. She must be getting fucked like a bitch, on her hands and knees with Jack behind. A vivid image popped into her mind of the two of them fucking, and she felt herself start to come. Though she clenched her teeth as firmly as she could, Nichole could hear a loud roaring coming from somewhere, though definitely not from her.

An hour later Jack and Sara left the apartment, to where they didn't say. Nichole waited carefully by the window until she saw his car head down the road. At last she was alone. She snuck into Sara's room, her heat pounding from the illicit nature of what she was doing. Nichole didn't care, she had to know what they had been doing. The room was a mess, with the bed the center of the chaos. The sheets were tossed off to the side, and the fitted sheet had been pulled off of the mattress in one corner. Nichole's eyes focused on three tiny spots partially hidden by the comforter. She moved the blanket, careful so that she could replace it exactly as it had been. The three dots turned out to be the smallest corner of what was a giant, milky stain. It gave off a faint scent, and Nichole felt herself compelled to lower her head to the stain and inhale deeply. The smell struck some kind of a nerve. Nichole was still a virgin, and her nerves blazed at the sudden realization that this was what sex smelled like. She felt her gash moisten. This was it, this was the thrill she was invading her roommate's privacy for. She had to find more. She carefully replaced the comforter and looked about the rest of the room. There was nothing on the desk but Sara's computer. Nichole felt a sudden urge to prowl there, but there was no saying how long that might take. Better to keep it where she could leave the room at the sound of a key to the front door. By the desk in the trash, she found three empty condom wrappers. Three times! She reached out to touch them but then remembered herself. Nichole searched the rest of the room but she found little else other than the disturbances left by moving bodies. When she realized that she was standing in the middle of the room mindlessly rubbing between the legs of her jeans Nichole forced herself to leave the room back to hers. This was hot, but... she wanted, no, she needed more. She needed to see them. Nichole returned to her room and tried as best she could to throw herself into her neglected homework, only slightly successfully.

--

Later that night

Jack returned to the apartment later that night, Sara staggering in tow. They'd been out downtown to a nice dinner, followed by some dancing at Sara's favorite bar. They played Arabic music on Saturdays, so it had been wall to wall belly dancing women. Jack tried to keep up, just partially successfully as he judged himself. They'd had a good time but were both quite buzzed, sweaty and feeling alive. Well, Jack a bit more than Sara. She had drunk a bit more than her usual and was clearly showing it. On the cab ride home she had tried to get Jack to feel her up, something that despite his outward objections had not failed to get his blood up.

The apartment was dark, evidently Nichole had already gone to sleep. The two of them bee-lined for Sara's bedroom, unintentionally making quite a racket. The second Jack entered something seemed a bit amiss to him. His eyes swiftly played over the room. The bathroom door had been closed more when they left, and the sheets had been slightly disturbed. In a blink his mind raced,Someone must have been in here he thought, and an instant later he settled on the only person it could possibly be.HumphJack smiled inwardly, and when he shut the door after Sara he made sure to leave it ever so slightly ajar.

Sara was in a mood that needed sex. She stumbled forward onto the bed, then sat awkwardly looking Jack. "Jack, you need to control me, Jack," Sara said, her eyes pleading. "I need it." Jack smiled, feeling his cock grow in his pants. Her earnest need for his firm hand never failed to excite him. He crossed the distance between the two of them and stroked the side of Sara's face. Calmly, he bunched her hair into a single ponytail at the back of her head, then gripped it firmly. Her eyes opened wide as he bent her head back so she looked up at him. Jack bent down into a long, sloppy kiss, then by her hair directed Sara up off the bed and onto the floor. She dropped to her knees, her breathing quickening.

"You were quite the slutty little whore tonight." Jack said, his voice changing to be huskier, more demanding. "I saw you trying to show these off." Jack palmed her chest with a rough twist. "And with these," he said as he delivered a swift slap to her ass. It echoed loudly in the quiet room. Normally Sara would have winced at the noise but today she seemed too buzzed to care. She wasn't too buzzed to miss reacting to the pain, and she looked at Jack, needful. "Now's your chance to show them off. Strip." Jack said.

At the request Sara motioned to rise but Jack stopped her with a sharp tug on her hair.

"No, you stay on the ground where you belong."

"Yes, Master." Sara said quietly, and turned to her work. She made short work of her top, pulling it over her head and tossing it carelessly away from her. Same with her bra. Jack smiled as he watched her try to wriggle out of her tight jeans, marveling at the pale tan flesh of her legs she exposed. Lastly she slid her panties down off of her legs, exposing to Jack's hungry gaze the smooth skin of her mons and the lips of her pussy.

Jack felt his cock throb in his pants as he watched Sara resume her kneeling pose. Without ceremony Jack undid the catch of his belt and dropped his pants and boxers off of his body. His cock sprung free engorged and angry, and he again took Sara's hair into his hand. "You've wanted to suck a cock all night, haven't you, whore?" He asked, and guided her mouth onto his prick. Sara didn't reply, she just opened her mouth and took him.

Nichole startled awake at the sound of someone knocking over their shoe rack. She grimaced in initial annoyance, until she remembered what her roommate had been up to, this of all weekends. Still, she remained in bed until she heard faintly through the sound of some kind of slap. She spent several, long moments in furious argument with herself, but in the end her prurient side won out. She had to see what they were doing, hearing wasn't enough. Nichole crept out of her bed, and tried to soundlessly open her bedroom door. She winced at the faint squeak it made, but it was silent compared to the voices she could now hear from her roommate's room. The main room of their apartment was pitch black, lit only by a faint shaft of light emerging from a crack in Sara's bedroom door. Nichole was drawn to it like an addict. Her heart racing she found that the crack was just wide enough for her to see half the room when her face was pressed against it. She took this pose and stared, her eyes wide. Sara and Jack were positioned to present a perfect silhouette. Jack was standing and Sara was on her knees her head bobbing up and down on... on Jack's cock. Nichole belatedly realized. She was watching her roommate suck off her boyfriend. She felt a tingle in her belly as she stared. It was nothing like she imagined. Jack's hand was positioned at the back of Sara's head, gripping her hair tight. He was pulling her onto and off of him, roughly fucking her mouth with what Nichole could now see was a large and erect prick. While she watched, she realized she could hear them too. "That's right, you little bitch, suck it. Suck it, you cunt." Nichole couldn't believe that Jack was talking to Sara that way, much less that she was so submissively putting up to it. Without warning, Jack shoved Sara and she fell backwards, landing awkwardly on the floor. She hardly moved while Jack leisurely finished undressing. "On to the bed. Ass facing me." Jack said, coldly. And Sara answered. What did she say? "Yes, Master." Nichole thought she heard. Master! She called him her master? While Nichole goggled at this, Sara did as she was told, crawling to the bed and positioning herself on her hands and knees, her ass facing the door. Nichole realized she could see every part of Sara's sex, from her clearly engorged pussy to her winking asshole. Nichole had never seen another woman nude before, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. It was so amazingly indecent, so... filthy. While she watched Jack finished contemplating Sara, and again approached her. He lovingly traced his fingertips up and down the crack of her ass, and Sara's behind twitched when he passed over first her box, then her rosebud. With a casual air Jack drew back his hand and slapped one side of her ass hard. Nichole flinched at the slap, but didn't blink, much less look away. "Play with yourself while I'm spanking you." Jack demanded. Nichole was amazed, to her touching herself was unspeakably shameful, and she lived in constant agony over her occasional weakness. But Sara did exactly as she was told, reaching between her legs and wetting two fingers in her sex. Nichole thought she heard a moan, but Jack quickly cut it off, spanking her ass again and again. Nichole could not believe her eyes. Not only was Jack spanking her, she seemed to be enjoying it. The harder Jack hit her, the quicker her fingers moved on her pussy. They were talking, too. "Whose ass is this?" Jack was demanding, over and over. Each time Sara would reply with a high pitched "It's your ass, master!" Finally Jack paused to admire his handiwork. Sara's ass was bright cherry red, with distinct fingermarks at the periphery of her bottom. Sara, oblivious continued to frig herself, panting. "So which will it be, your ass or your pussy tonight?" Jack asked. "Whichever you want, master!" Sara called back. Jack absent mindedly stroked his cock and said "Good slut." Seizing Sara's hips he hauled her so she was perpendicular to the edge of the bed. He moved behind her, one knee on the bed, one foot on the ground, and directed his cock into her... pussy? Into her anus? Nichole couldn't tell. She did, however, have another complete silhouette as Jack drove his prick into Sara. Jack fucked with his hands firmly on Sara's hips, each thrust ended in a wet snap as his hips hit her ass. Sara, for her part was covering her head with both hands and was screaming into the comforter.

Nichole had never been as turned on as she was at this moment. But then a nagging doubt finally realized itself and she felt her blood go cold. The position Jack was in, it was a perfect view for her, but it was also fairly awkward for him. He was half on the bed and half off, and while this didn't seem to be slowing him down it wasn't the easiest way he could be fucking Sara. Why then was he doing it?Because he wants a person looking from the door to have a good view. He knows I'm here, peeping.Nichole panicked. She had been pressed against the door for so long she was slightly stuck to it, so when she pulled back from the door frame it went with her. The bolt slipped past its guard plate and extended with an audible click. Nichole was completely mortified, her eyes wide in terror. And what's worse, she saw Jack casually direct his gaze to the door frame and deliver a broad grin. Nichole scrambled backwards and fled to her room. She turned out the lights, slid into bed and struggled to pretend she had been here the whole time. But the scene she had just witnessed repeated itself again and again in her head, watching Jack degrade, spank and then fuck Sara. And though Nichole hated herself for it, but she couldn't stop herself from reaching between her legs and at to first toying, then aggressively playing with her pussy. She simply couldn't do anything else, her entire being had collapsed to the image of Jack's cock roughly fucking Sara's pussy. With moans through the wall ringing in her ears, she came for the first time.

--

The Next Morning

It was early morning, and Sara was in Nichole's room trying to shake her awake. "Hey, Nichole, wake up!" she said in a mock serious tone. "Seriously, if you don't get up right now, you're going to miss the delicious pancakes. C'mon!" Nichole cracked her eyes open and blinked fiercely at the sudden bright light.

"Sara, what on earth are you doing here?" Nichole asked. Sara never came into her room.

Sara smiled, a little sheepishly. "We're going to the pancake house, and Jack thought it would be really rude not to invite you. So what do you say? C'mon, get up!"

As the sleep cleared from her mind what she had seen the night before flooded back into Nichole's thoughts, causing her to shrink further into her covers. She couldn't face her roommate, not now. Maybe not ever. She briskly shook her head and bunched the covers around her. "No, thank you." She nearly stammered out. "I'm not feeling too well. I'm going to pass out again."

Sara's brows knitted themselves in concern, but she allowed herself to be persuaded. "OK, fine. Give me a call if you need anything. We can pick something up..." Nevertheless, Nichole again refused. Shrugging, Sara left her roommate alone. A few minutes later Nichole heard the slam of the front door.

She lay in bed for a long while, feeling miserable. Not only was her friend and roommate a pervert, but she was a pervert. She had, if she was honest with herself, enjoyed it. Hell, she had come back into her bed andmasturbated, thinking about what she had seen. How could she ever face her family again? They wouldn't know, but Nichole would. This line of thinking was miserable, which was exactly how Nichole wanted it. Except she kept coming around to the central point of why it was miserable, what she had seen. Despite her shame, Nichole started to feel herself grow excited again.No! I'm not that kind of girl!Nichole struggled with herself. To keep from another bout of self-abuse, she got out of the bed and threw herself into something, anything to keep her occupied. What suggested itself was breakfast, so a minute later she was in the living room preparing some toast. This was a mistake. Out in the living room she could again see Sara's bedroom, this time the door left completely ajar. Some part of her, some imp of the perverse wanted to go in, to see if there was any other evidence this time.No!Nichole insisted, but she found herself walking towards Sara's room anyway, found herself sneaking through the door, and standing in the middle of the room where she had seen such depravity the night before. And it looked it. The bed had the sheets torn off of it. A peek at the trash can showed an extra four condoms.Four timesshe thought wistfully. Nichole doubted she could stand once go around with Jack's harsh attentions. Yet, horrifying though they were, there was no denying that there was something animal, something electrifying about how he so thoroughly dominated Sara. It was mid thought that Nichole noticed the note.

It was a small, white envelope on Sara's desk. Nothing was around it, and it was positioned clearly so that anyone wandering in the room could see it. It said on the front simply, "To Nichole." Nichole wanted to run, to hide, but she also felt a burning curiosity. She hesitated, but picked up the envelope. On the back was written in a fine print, "Read this while we're gone." Nichole felt a tingle in her chest. He had to know. She opened the envelope, which revealed a short, handwritten note.

"I saw you last night," it said. "I hope you enjoyed the show. You will be at exactly the same place tonight. If you don't, I'll tell Sara that I saw you peeking on us." That was it. Nichole's blood grew cold.She can't know I was peeking, if she did, I would die.Nichole noticed her hands were shaking. To hide it, she crushed the note in her hand and snuck back out of the room. Her appetite was suddenly gone. She crawled back into bed and resolved not to come out.

---

The day passed quickly for Nichole. She soon found she couldn't bear to stay in the apartment, with its constant reminder of what awaited her that evening. To pass the time she gathered up her schoolwork and trekked downtown to the public library, where she tried valiantly to distract herself in academics. She was only partially successful. Her thoughts were constantly interrupted with fear, shame and exhilaration. As horrified as she was, Nichole struggled to avoid admitting to herself how powerfully turned on the prospect of the evening had made her. She stared at her textbook instead of reading it, all the while unconsciously grinding her thighs together. The wait was torture.

Nichole avoided returning home until exactly the appointed time. She had no desire to see either Jack or Sara until she absolutely had to. The hands of the clock did march along mercilessly, and at a quarter to midnight she was back at her apartment, opening the front door. It was not as she had expected, the lights were on and the apartment was quiet. She stepped into the apartment and noticed that Jack was seated at their kitchen table, a glass of wine and a notepad before him. He grinned wolfishly at Nichole, and placed a finger to his lips. He beckoned her to come to him and, shrugging her shoulders, Nichole did so. When she got next to the table Jack quickly wrote on the pad.